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#colby
for your ease, the links in the Notes section below the ma8n body of the "poem" should take you directly there, avoiding the cruelty, of cut n' paste ***** https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5157922/for-colby-to-eat-to-excrete-to-laugh-and-to-cry-out-loud/ https://hellopoetry.com/nat-lipstadt/poems/?tab#:~:text=For%20Colby:%20There's%20a%20baby%20in%20the%20house... https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5158703/for-colby-when-sunlight-cracks-the-babys-room-window/ https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5159012/for-colby-rest-easy-be-assured/
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 11:58 AM UTC
Four For Colby
the first words that a new mother utters is Ma~Ma; until,  some day, you say ok, enough, and acknowledge and satisfy her overwhelming craving; be assured, the father is no different, for after Ma~Ma, they will indoctrinate you with the concept of equality, and Da~Da will be pronounced shortly, thereafter, so Colby, rest easy, be assured, both your parents were & are perfectly normal probably twice as much when ma-ma is not around
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 11:24 AM UTC
For Colby; Rest easy, be assured..
utters is Ma~Ma; until,  some day, you say ok, enough, and acknowledge and satisfy her overwhelming craving; be assured, the father is no different, for after Ma~Ma, they will indoctrinate you with the concept of equality, and Da~Da will be pronounced shortly, thereafter, probably twice as much when ma-ma is not around so Colby, rest easy, be assured, both your parents were & are perfectly normal
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Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 9:35 PM UTC
For Colby; Rest easy, be assured..
so, we all, grand and great nieces and nephews, aunts and baby, fathers and mothers, nanas & poppys; pick your preferred identifier; gather round to worship him, but end of day, color us tired, and early to book & to bed long drive, long day, to get to our tiny slice of heaven on earth, a no-points-required destination, and the baby, with his roly~poly effervescent charms and delights; oh boy! he's going to be trouble for the ladies later in life; he's a sound sleeper; twice-a-day napper; great eater, and I inquire to the sky, can I? order half a dozen more on Amazon, exactly the same? is there any limit at all? but its 3:56 am, the new master is fast asleep, the funny smelling old man, tiptoes to the sunroom sanctuary, bursting with three, count-'em three, poem hooks in his convection invention mind and now that the artisanal dishwasher, that's him~too, is done, his two loads, yet he awakes to put the urgencies. to bed, write his thank you note poems to his fellow poets for gifting him insights and of fig tarts pies, that are invading his head,      yet to to be, written, including this child's future, who he, will write by himself and this little ditty, though pretty, is just an appetizer, to a beautiful life ahead, and substantive poems yet to be written and hopefully read.... the baby cries out. a geschrei,^ but back to his dreams of strange houses, funny cribs, and senses going crazy with new sights and smells, and instantly back to sleep, my god that's some perfect baby! and the old writer, the would-be-poet, knows when not to belabor the point, and there's work to be done, good weather requested, ferries to ride, perhaps, even, brioche french toast for breakfast and of course, miles to go…                                                                                       nml 4:18am 9/12/25 Shelter Island Keep
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Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 4:33 AM UTC
For Colby: There's a baby in the house...
so, we all, grand and great nieces and nephews, aunts and baby, fathers and mothers, nanas & poppys; pick your preferred identifier; gather round to worship him, but end of day, color us tired, and early to book & to bed long drive, long day, to get to our tiny slice of heaven on earth, a no-points-required destination, and the baby, with his roly~poly effervescent charms and delights; oh boy! he's going to be trouble for the ladies later in life; he's a sound sleeper; twice-a-day napper; great eater, and I inquire to the sky, can I? order half a dozen more on Amazon, exactly the same? is there any limit at all? but its 3:56 am, the new master is fast asleep, the funny smelling old man, tiptoes to the sunroom sanctuary, bursting with three, count-'em three, poem hooks in his convection invention mind and now that the artisanal dishwasher, that's him~too, is done, his two loads, yet he awakes to put the urgencies. to bed, write his thank you note poems to his fellow poets for gifting him insights and of fig tarts pies, that are invading his head,      yet to to be, written, including this child's future, who he, will write by himself and this little ditty, though pretty, is just an appetizer, to a beautiful life ahead, and substantive poems yet to be written and hopefully read.... the baby cries out. a geschrei,^ but back to his dreams of strange houses, funny cribs, and senses going crazy with new sights and smells, and instantly back to sleep, my god that's some perfect baby! and the old writer, the would-be-poet, knows when not to belabor the point, and there's work to be done, good weather requested, ferries to ride, perhaps, even, brioche french toast for breakfast and of course, miles to go…                                                                                       nml 4:18am 9/12/25 Shelter Island Keep
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and it emits a cry, of sudden surprise, a howl for the hole in its roundtable tummy, when it pleads for knowing, for it knows not of knowledge, why this light comes, who bids it enter, and why this entity they call mother, has all the answers required, and why the father, moves so stealthy to hug them both and squeeze them together 7:33am Sat Sep 11 2025 in the babies room, in the keep
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Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 7:36 AM UTC
For Colby: when sunlight cracks the baby's room window